The sky is draped in a deep purple,
Trees, bare and dusted with snow, reach for the sky.
A blanket of white covers the ground,
A few footprints and tire tracks, whispers of people passing by,
Fading fast, like whispers in the wind.
The air is cold, but quiet and peaceful, just how I like it.

A cozy, red-brown house peeks out from behind the trees,
A lone tree, thin and spread out, stands guard,
Snow makes it look different, kind of beautiful.

What a winter night, everything is dim,
But the coldness makes the silence so beautiful.

—ancn.